What A Fine Mess We've Made
by Shatter Brained
Summary: During his fifth year at Hogwarts, Remus finds himself falling head over heels for one of his oldest and dearest friends. He finds out that the feeling is quite mutual, and the two must face the predjudices and hardships of their teenage years together.
1. Vindicated

**A/N: **Hey, everyone, this is Carli, aka Shatter Brained. This is my first story on this website, so I really hope that you guys enjoy it. All I ask is that, if you read this, for you to _please _leave a review. I don't care how long it is, or if it's nice; I just really want to know what you think about my story. I know that this is a short chapter, but don't worry. The ones to come will be much longer; since this one is just sort of a prologue sort of thing. Enjoy!

xxxxx

When beginning each and every journey, one must hope for the best; yet, at the same time, prepare for the worst. – Anonymous

**Chapter One  
_Vindicated_**

_"Hope dangles on a string  
__like slow spinning redemption  
__winding in; winding out  
__the shine of which has caught my eye  
__and roped me in so mesmerising  
__so hypnotising  
__I am captivated  
__I am vindicated."_

The slowly dying embers of the formerly roaring fire emitted so low of a light that I had to squint my eyes closed just to reread the chickenscratch I had just scrawled upon my length of tattered parchment. My brow furrowed in concentration as I went back, scribbling over the various unsightly errors I had made before leaning back into the large, crimson armchair and sighing deeply.

The common room was completely silent. The scratch of my quill and the occasional cracking of the now depleted fire had filled the air moments before, but now, the eerie stillness of the Gryffindor tower was becoming quite nerve-wracking.

I cleared my throat and looked around, casting a glance at my wristwatch, barely seeing the second hand tick past the roman numeral four before hearing the resounding gong of the ageing grandfather clock in the corner. It chimed four times quite loudly—better known as "Get in bed! Why aren't you in bed? You're still not in bed! Get your ass in bed!" I sighed, not wanting to make the clock angrier than it already was. Gathering my quill, two ink bottles, and the three-and-a-quarter foot long sheaf of parchment on which I had finally finished my Potions essay; I shoved them all into my messenger bag and trumped up the spiralling staircase.

When I reached the top of the narrow tower, I crept as quietly as I could into the fifth year boys' dormitory; closing the door noiselessly and making my way to my four poster in the near darkness. Propping my laden bag up against the edge of my nightstand, I plopped down onto my mattress and pulled the hangings around my bed; staring at the ceiling and wondering if I could muster up enough pseudo-tiredness to trick myself into falling asleep.

xxxxx

The soft golden light of the birth of dawn seeped through a high stained glass window near the end of the dormitory; soaking the room with the aura of morning. I yawned as my eyes cracked open unwillingly, succumbing to the light, and I stretched my arms up above my head tiredly.

It was a funny thing—if, that is, you had a terribly sardonic sense of humour, of course. I could never manage to get myself into a deep slumber at night, but when the next day came, it was as if I were pinned to my bed by hippogriffs. I couldn't get to sleep when I had the time, but when I was supposed to be up and doing other things, I felt the need for rest tug at my eyelids mercilessly. I had to assemble all of the energy I could just to pull myself out of bed and stumble over to my trunk.

"Morning, Moony," Sirius yawned from the bed next to mine. I smiled vaguely in response, and heard him bark with laughter. "Well, don't you seem alert today," he said.

When I didn't respond for a second time, Sirius went back to sifting through his messily packed trunk, muttering to himself and searching, it seemed, for an article of, at best, semi-clean clothing.

James took over the interrogative role no more than a second later. "Yeah, I heard you hobble in here really early this morning," he observed, yanking his wrinkled Gryffindor tie over his head and smoothing it out with his hands absently. "What were you up to, reading again?"

"Nah," I laughed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and zipping up the crotch of my black school pants. "I was out partying all night." James let out a guffaw, and I heard the rest of my roommates suppressing snickers. "Met up with quite a feisty broad, and… you know," I shot them a smug grin. "Let's just say I couldn't, err, pull myself away from her that easily."

Suppressed giggles weren't an option in this case. "Ha!" Peter shouted, and I shot him a mockingly offended look. "What, you don't believe me? Pah, you're just jealous."

"No," he responded, slinging his bag over his shoulder and grinning playfully, heading for the door with James and Frank. "Just surprised that a pouf like you could score a bird." I chucked my shoe at him just as he slammed the door behind him, and it thudded against the wood uselessly; though making quite a large imprint. It would have looked lovely on Peter's sodding little face.

"Damnit," I muttered angrily, striding over to the door and thudding to the floor; pulling my shoe on roughly and beginning to do the laces.

"He was just kidding, you know," Sirius noted mildly, pulling his school robes on over his uniform and tying his long, scraggly black hair back with an elastic band. I shot him a look, though, and he instantly corrected himself. "Although I must admit, he was a complete tosser for thinking that that's something to joke about. I mean, not that… it's just… not something that's taken as… funny?" He cocked his head to the side, thinking, and I melted at the complexly serene look upon his face.

"Very articulate, Sirius," I said, standing up and hoping that he hadn't seen me staring at him. Walking back to my bedside, I grabbed my school bag and waited for him to finish stuffing his books into the zippered pouch of his own.

We scaled the staircase together, crossed the noisy common room, and exited through the portrait hole in mindless chatter. I hardly noticed when we had reached the Great Hall, and I wasn't really aware of my surroundings until Peter snapped a finger rudely in my face.

"Hey, Remus, are you going to answer me or not?" He asked, and I blinked, looking at him curiously.

"What was the question again?" I asked, not really paying attention as I grabbed a bright red apple from the platter of fruit in front of me.

"Lily Evans. How many more months until you think she'll cave?" I looked in the direction he was gazing, and spotted Lily, with her long, strikingly red hair, sitting next to someone with a sloppy, black mess. James.

James was hopeless. He'd been asking Lily to date him every day since our third year. He said he was in love with her, and at first I believed it to merely be a phase. But now, I wasn't so sure. Lately, he seemed to be bordering the line between infatuation and obsession. I had to agree—it wouldn't be long before she said yes to him, even if only to get James to shut the hell up.

"Err… not long, I suppose. Three months, maybe? Girls get all mushy around St. Valentine's Day, so maybe she'll take pity on him and agree to a date." Peter laughed, and Frank shook his head, exasperated.

"I just wish I had the gall to ask her, like James does," Frank said, sighing. "Then again, he'd most likely scalp me alive if I went anywhere near here. He acts like he owns her, for Merlin's sake." He chewed on his doughnut thoughtfully. "What about you three, what do you think of her?"

Peter snorted. "Trust me, I think very highly of her." In a whisper, he added, "I must admit, I've wanked off to her quite a few times."

"Oi! Peter!" Sirius shouted, a disgusted look on his face. "Keep that information to yourself, _please_. I do _not_ want to spend the rest of the day with that… lovely mental image, thank you very much."

"You, Wormtail, are the least tactful person I have ever met," I mumbled, and he seemed to absorb this as some sort of compliment; for I could see his ego inflating ever so slightly as I spoke.

"Hey, excuse me if I'm not one for attachments. Love is like a hit and run for me. And if that's all I'm going to get from Evans, god forbid I milk it to it's fullest."

At the word "milk", all three of us gagged on whatever we were eating, no doubt picturing things better left unsaid; unnoticed to Peter.

"Well, anyway," Sirius said, resting his chin in his hands and watching as a Lily shouted a few unheard, yet most undoubtedly choice words at James. "Evans isn't my type. I'm all for James and her, I think they'd make quite a contradictory couple. They're like pancakes and mustard, those two."

I shot him a sideways glance. "Pancakes and mustard?" I asked, bewildered.

"Yeah," he replied dreamily, as if imagining having a plate of the unsightly duo at that very moment. "They shouldn't mix, it seems, but somehow they do…" he trailed off, shrugging and shoving yet another strip of bacon into his mouth.

xxxxx

"_They shouldn't mix, it seems, but somehow they do…"_ Sirius' voice resounded through my head as I tried to listen to the droning of dear old Professor Binns. It didn't help matters, either, that the stupid little prick was seated right next to me, jabbering on uselessly, mouthing obscenities just to get me to blush. It was a wretched game of his, and I really wanted to tell him to shut his mouth; but I was much too polite for that.

And by that, of course, I mean I was pretty incapable of telling him off; as I was preoccupied scratching down notes on Binns' lecture while trying to ignore Sirius' unruly comments. It would be quite easy to succumb to his will and let them get the better of me, but I wasn't going to let that happen. I felt my face burn furiously as he quoted a particularly nasty thing to me in a rough whisper.

But I couldn't get it off my mind. Pancakes and mustard. He was right, they _shouldn't_ mix. And although I didn't particularly agree with him on the front that they actually did, it was remarkably representational, to me. Two totally opposite things falling in sync. Into rhythm with one another.

Like he and I. The Prefect and the rebel. The possibilities practically made me hard, and I immediately ducked over my notes upon noticing this, writing down something irrelevant about the goblin rebellions of 1738.

It was all I could do to keep my mind off of Sirius.


	2. Lying Through Your Teeth

**A/N:** Okay, this one is most definitely longer than the first chapter, so I hope that's satisfying enough for you lot. :D I'd really like to thank the six of you who reviewed chapter one, it really surprised me that anyone even came across this story, seeing as they are over 2,000 others, here! I really appreciated the positive feedback, and I'm sorry that it took me semilongish to update. But enough blathering, here's chapter two. I hope that you enjoy it, and even if you don't, _please_ leave a review. They're what keep me writing. (:

xxxxx

A lie gets half way around the earth before the truth even has a chance to get it's pants on. –Sir Winston Churchill

**Chapter Two**  
**_Lying Through Your Teeth_**

_"You're telling tall tales, now,  
spinning webs too big to climb  
everybody knows you're a liar  
why don't I?  
You're lying through your teeth  
and you're not at all  
not at all what you seem."_

xxxxx

"Moony," Peter whined, in a tone that made me want to wring his neck. "Come on, just a peek? I only want to compare…" I smacked his wrist angrily as his hand slithered toward my Potions essay for the third time.

"Compare? You have no essay to compare to mine, Wormtail. Maybe if you actually paid attention in class, things wouldn't be this difficult for you," I said, quite agitated at his repetitive mooching. I'd let him 'compare' essays with me one to many times already this year, and I was fed up with it. It was only the beginning of December, and yet he'd already dragged himself into the habit of copying off of my work.

"But that's boring," he said, a frown etched upon his face. I swear, it took all of the self control I had to keep myself from smacking the obnoxious look—intended to wring sympathy from me, no doubt—right off his face.

"We have a half an hour left of lunch," I said coolly. "That should be enough time for you to scrape up at least a mild excuse for an essay." He gaped at me unbelievingly, looking to Sirius for some support; but he only shook his head at Peter in a way that clearly said "Don't even try getting me involved in this one, you stupid sod."

"This is hopeless!" Peter shouted exasperatedly, throwing his hands into the air. "For Merlin's sake, Moony, it's just an essay! You're such a girl!"

James sat down next to me, an apple in hand, and I scooted over on the wooden bench to make room for him. He nodded to me in thanks before taking a juicy bite of the delicious looking apple and turning to Peter.

"Who's a girl?" He asked stupidly, swallowing thickly and taking another huge bite from the apple.

"Moony. He's too sensitive." Glaring at me, he added in a low tone, "Kind of a real pansy."

James looked at me for further elaboration, and I let out quite an unintelligible sound of indignation. "I just told him I didn't want him copying off of my Potion's essay, for Merlin's sake!"

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at me in anger, and I was instantly reminded of terribly stubborn caterpillars. I held back a laugh, shaking my head and rolling up my essay once again; stuffing it carefully into my bag.

"That doesn't mean Moony's a girl, you stupid prat," James said, and I rolled my eyes. Of course it didn't. For heaven's sake, it wasn't as if, by disallowing Peter to copy off of my paper, I had suddenly grown breasts. "It just means that he _needs _a girl." He snickered, elbowing me in the side and grinning a tooth eating grin. I wanted to sock him right then and there. Instead, I just gritted my teeth, trying to keep from blushing profusely.

"What the hell do you mean, Prongs?" I finally asked, quite forcefully. He smiled again, placing a hand on my shoulder, the insufferable snot.

"What I mean is that you're too uptight, Remus! You need a girl, and fast." The way he said it made it sound like he was going to pull over the next living thing of the opposite sex and coax her into taking me to Hosmeade this weekend. I sprung out of my seat at the thought, deciding it was best to get out of there before he got any ideas.

Poor James. He was sixteen years old, yet he was still under the childish impression that a girlfriend could solve anything. Stressing over schoolwork? Frustrated with your social life? Having troubles at home? All of that could be cured with a nice, long snog!

Please, gag me.

"I don't need anyone," I told them as I grabbed myself an uneaten cinnamon bagel from Sirius' plate, despite his protests. "All I need is for Peter to goddamn leave me alone."

Turning on my heel, I swiftly exited the Great Hall, my face burning with bitter resentment and my bag swinging dangerously by my side.

xxxxx

Okay, I admit, it was a terribly silly thing to get upset over. But then again, that's what I did best, wasn't it? I overreacted. It was part of my character—although I often tried to suppress my emotions, it most always came to no avail.

I was calm, cool, and collected to those at bay; but to those who knew me well, I was a right rash bastard. My emotions were raw, and I was easily pushed over the edge. It was a common thing for me to be edgy and sensitive around the full moon; but to be truthful, I was almost always like that.

Just like a girl, when it came to be "that time of the month", (in a different sense, of course) I was automatically excused for being cross and taking a lot of naps. But when I did so otherwise, it was seen as me being, as Sirius called me during those times, "Moody Moony".

I stopped walking, realising that I had absolutely no idea where I was. I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples gently with my thumbs and trying to recall the silly map of Hogwarts James, Sirius, Peter and I had created years ago. I knew I was on the fourth floor, so if I took a left up the corridor a bit, another left by that horrible painting of some nameless old hag, walked for a few metres and then took yet another left…

I'd be right back where I started.

"Hell," I muttered, taking a few steps backwards and trying to retrace my steps. But I hardly reached the end of the hallway before I ran into something solid. Craning my head over my shoulder and looking for what I possibly could have run into, I saw a shock of untidy black hair. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, and smiled at Sirius as I turned to face him.

"Hey," he snickered, an eyebrow raised coyly. "You always walk like this when no one else is around?" he asked, imitating my backwards waltz with a grin plastered on his face. I laughed, shoving him playfully and shaking my head.

"Oi, at least it's better than your arrogant swagger, Padfoot," I retorted; sticking my nose in the air and strutting about in an almost perfect impersonation of his walk. He sneered, but could hardly pull it off; the grin still tugging lightly at the corners of his mouth. "I don't walk like that!" he said, feigning offence. I looked at him innocently. "Oh, really? Then why don't you show me how you do walk, Sirius."

And with that, he began to skip. Hopping gleefully from foot too foot, he scaled the corridor swiftly and called to me from the other end of the hall. "_That_ is how I walk."

I burst out giggling, and he bowed extravagantly. "You look like a complete pouf," I told him, and he looked hurt.

"Well you sound like one. So I wouldn't be talking, if I were you," he retorted, skipping back over to me in a overly feminine manner.

"Are you ever serious?" I questioned as he draped his arm over my shoulder with a flourish.

He looked at me, a very sombre look upon his face. "I, Remus Lupin, am _always_ Sirius."

And with that, we skipped off to Potions class; his arm still around my shoulder.

xxxxx

"Pick a letter." James was hanging upside-down off of the loveseat near the roaring fire in the

Gryffindor common room. He was perfecting the hangman's noose he had scrawled in the air with his wand, and I looked at what I had figured out so far.

Icy looking letters and dashes were etched messily above him. I basked in the immaturity of the message. It was a classic James Potter:

P A O O  
S M E S  
I K E  
R O - U N G.

"Padfoot smells like… troll-dung?" I asked dully, and James looked at me in awe, a smile breaking out across his face as he nodded.

"I do not!" Sirius shouted, descending the spiral staircase that led to the boys dormitories and scaring a few of the younger students away. He reached the bottom, furiously placed his hands on his hips, and scoffed at the two of us.

"Of course you don't, Sirius," James said sincerely. "Now grab a seat, it's your turn." Sirius obliged, trudging over, plopping himself down in an armchair and resting his chin in his hands as James drew the base of the noose. "Okay," he said. "Go."

"Hmmm. A," Sirius said. James scribbled an A into the air carelessly. "L." He did the same, only this time, he etched two letters. "R." Once again, he had chosen a good letter. James scratched it onto the puzzle, and I soon stopped paying attention.

Focusing on the flickering flames of the fire, I was hypnotised by the way they licked upwards before swooping down again; only to repeat the pattern, though with somewhat of a variation. It was rhythmic, yet fluctuating. The flames came in measured beats, yet they were unpredictable. It was fascinating.

"Earth to Moony!" I heard someone call, right in my ear, and I jumped, spinning around in my armchair. Sirius barked with laughter, and I relaxed, though I was a bit agitated. Did he just interrupt my thoughts for no reason but to see me angry? If so, I was poised and ready to claw the bastard's eyes out—even if they _were_ as lusciously mesmerising as the flames in the hearth beside me.

"I need some help," he said in an innocent tone, and I slowly felt my perturbation recede. "I can't figure out what to guess next."

I gazed over at the puzzle, but was only met with something that irked me more than I just had been, which was definitely saying something.

R E M U S  
U P I N  
N E E D S  
T O  
G E T  
A I D.

"Very mature, James, thanks," I scowled. "Sex isn't the answer to everything, you know."

He looked at me, as if flabbergasted that I would say such a thing. "Of course it isn't, Remus! I know that. Sex is the _question_. Yes is the answer."

I decided that it was better not to question what was going on in his mind when he thought that up. Pulling my wand from my back pocket and erasing the letters, I wrote a message of my own for them to consider as I trumped up the staircase.

The entire common room snickered as James tried to erase my fiery red letters, but came to no avail. From the top of the stairs, I saw James shoot the words a hateful glare; but they just glared back at him in return.

"James Potter wanks off to portraits of Slughorn."

xxxxx

"Reeeeemus," I heard a soft call coming from behind me, before a balled up piece of parchment bounced off of the back of my skull. I tried to pay attention to Professor Rolland's lecture on muggle transportation devices, but another ball of parchment hit the back of my head, and I finally succumbed to Sirius' incessant whining.

"What?" I whispered, whipping around and facing him irritably. He smiled, waving to me childishly, and I rolled my eyes. "What do you want, Sirius?"

"Well," he said, a mischievous glint in his chocolate brown eyes. "Remember Janice?" I gagged. Of course I remembered Janice, Sirius' wench of an ex girlfriend. The two of them sucked face for about seven months during their third year (not consecutively, of course, they took breaks to breathe) before breaking it off because they were "growing bored of each other". I prayed that the two of them hadn't patched things up. I don't think I would be able to stomach the two of them for more than a day or so.

"Anyway," he continued, "she's got this friend, Tahlula—you've probably seen her a few times, she's a fourth year? Quite large… features? Well Janice told me that this chick's got a huge thing for smart guys, so…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I gritted my teeth.

"You're trying to set me up?" I asked dully, casting a look at James, who was snoring softly; his head in the crook of his folded arms, resting on his desk. This was no doubt partially his doing. Stupid sodding stark raving motherfu—

"No, no, of course not!" Sirius laughed quietly. "And by that I mean… yes. I am. But just give her a chance, okay? Like I said, she's really nice, and has some really big… assets." If Sirius made one more pathetic reference to the poor girl's breasts, I would have to smack him. But I knew I would be too much of a pansy to really hit him, so I decided to stop listening to him instead. Which didn't really work, but whatever. I let him think it did.

xxxxx

"So," I said awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably upon the crimson cushions of the sofa. "Your name's Tahlula, right?"

She nodded, and I nodded stiffly in return. It was really a dumb thing to ask, but it was all I could think of to say. Which really goes to show that I'm not that social of a person—I was rubbish with small talk.

"My name's Remus," I said, smiling curtly. She bit her lip and nodded again. "I know," she replied, and I felt stupid for informing her. After all, Sirius had introduced us minutes before—and then, of course, he had vacated the common room, making sure that everyone left with him; winking at me boyishly from the staircase before departing.

That insufferable git. I considered leaving, but the girl in front of me seemed as nervous as hell, and I didn't want to just leave her here; and so began the atrocious small talk. I wasn't sure what she was expecting—for us to talk, joke, kiss, _do homework_? I never knew how to act around people, until I knew them a little better. But it was hard for me to get to know someone when I couldn't think of anything interesting to ask.

"You know, I've never ermm… done this before," she blushed, chewing on her lip again. I cocked my head to the side, gazing at her questioningly. "Been, you know…" she trailed off, not able to put into words what she was trying to say; and instead picked up on a different thread. "You seem nervous. Are you nervous? I get nervous when I meet new people." She was fidgeting with her fingers, wringing her hands and gazing down into her lap. She looked like she needed a hug. Either that or a good calming draught.

She continued on. "I didn't know Janice was going to… erm… you know, and I feel kind of bad because… Well, I guess I want a boyfriend, but not if it's a set up. I'm sorry."

I jumped at the opportunity. "No, don't be!" I said, putting a hand on her shoulder and laughing. "I feel exactly the same way."

She giggled softly and returned the smile. He laugh was serene, like the sound of tinkling bells. "But in your case, a girlfriend, of course," she said, and I bit my lip, seriously considering whether or not I should shake my head. But it's as if just thinking about it had caused me to follow suit, because Tahlula gasped, clamping her hands over her mouth and squealing.

"Are you saying… are you gay?" she whispered, her sea coloured eyes sparkling. I laughed at her excitement, and nodded timidly. She squealed again and hugged me. It was kind of weird, but incredibly comforting; for some odd reason. I had known her for roughly ten minutes, but she was already growing on me, and it was obvious that she was quite keen on me, even if it wasn't in the way Sirius and Janice had intended.

"But you can't tell anyone," I said in a hushed whisper, even quieter than the one I had used in Muggle Studies when chatting with Sirius earlier that day. She nodded ecstatically and hugged me again, and I laughed once more.

She pulled away from me, and I saw a mischievous glint in her turquoise eyes, much like the one I had seen in those of Sirius, earlier.

"They left us down here all alone, right?" she said, and I looked at her, confused. "Well," she continued impishly. "What if we screwed with their heads a little?" Before I could even form a reply, she rumpled up my hair, mussing it up with precision and undoing my tie at the same time. She let it hang loosely around my neck as she unbuttoned my shirt half way, skewing it slightly before starting on her own self. She ran her fingers through her own long, silky black hair; dirtying it up and undoing the top three buttons of her blouse.

Grabbing my hand and giggling, she led me up to the boys dormitory and thrust open the door. A disgruntled James fell away from the door, where he had obviously been staking out, trying to listen in on Tahlula and I; but we just strutted right past him and I could see, out of the corner of my eye, his expression turn from one of indignation to one of pride.

Tahlula pushed me down onto my bed and pranced back over to the door, winking at me and closing the door slowly. "See you tomorrow, Remmy," she said naughtily, and the door shut as she skipped down the stairs.

The dormitory was quiet for a few seconds, but the next thing I knew, James, Peter, Sirius, and Frank were all crowded around my four poster, begging for details.

"Oh, boys," I said haughtily. "You're too inquisitive for your own good. Let's just say that Lula and I are… together now." I shot them a poster boy smile and pulled the hangings closed right in their faces. I fell onto my pillow gracelessly and giggled silently into it; relishing in the priceless thought of the bewildered looks of my friends.

So maybe the whole thing was a bit of a lie. But hell, was it fun.


	3. Sewn

**A/N:** Wow, it's been terrifyingly long since I've updated this story. I know that there's no excuse for my extended absence, but I'll try to give one, anyway. :D In the time that I've been gone, I've gone through a ridiculously sticky break up, two nervous breakdowns, three changes of medication, numerous run-ins with icky ex boyfriends, a few close calls with relapse, and, on the bright side, a new job. So goes highschool, I suppose. I do hope you all can forgive me for the unnecessarily long wait; and hopefully I'll make up for it by trying my hardest not to ever do that again. I was having a bit of trouble writing out everything I had planned for this story, but I've broken the ice a bit, with this chapter. Chapter four should be up within about a week. I hope you all enjoy this one, and again, I'm really, really sorry for the wait. You can blame it on adolescence, that tricky little bitch.  
-Carli

**Chapter Three**  
**_Sewn_**

_"Give me a song and I'll sing it like I mean it  
__Give me the words and I'll say them like I mean it  
__Cause you've got my heart in a headlock  
__You stopped my blood and made my head soft  
__You've got me sewn."_

"How about him?" I followed Tahlula's gaze, choking on my pumpkin juice and slamming the goblet down upon the wooden table as she raised an eyebrow at me.

"Don't be silly, now! His eyes are much too far apart." I shoveled a spoonful of porridge into my mouth as I watched her scan the Ravenclaw table intently.

"Oooh," she cooed suddenly, her eyes lighting up and the ghost of a smile dancing across her lips. "What about Elliot Kent, I've heard that he's—"

"A complete tosser." I rolled my eyes, grabbing an apple. "Stole Sirius's last girlfriend, he did. Granted, she was a bit of a tramp, and he only went on one date with her which technically wasn't even a date, seeing as they sort of just met up during one of the Hogsmeade visits; but they snogged for about an hour behind Madame Puddifoot's, and I think he said he slipped his hand up her—"

"Remus!," she shouted, smacking me not-so-playfully over the head. "I get it." It was Tahlula's turn, now, to roll her eyes.

I felt a blush creep up my neck, and nodded. "Right. Sorry." Taking a bite of the candy-red apple, I chewed on an idea or two, along with the sweet tasting fruit.

"Say," I began, my brows creasing in thought. "Who is it that you fancy? Anyone special?" Tahlula looked at me, an embarrassed flush colouring her otherwise pale cheeks.

She bit her lip, opening her mouth once or twice, as if to say something; before closing it again. "You'll laugh at me," she said finally; looking distressed.

"Oh, please," I muttered. "I'm sure that you have excellent taste in boys." She didn't look very convinced, and so I continued. "Look, if I make fun of you, then you can go ahead and tell the whole school that I'm a—" I stopped suddenly, as she began to grin.

"A what, Remus? A faggot? Flamer? Queer?" She smiled deviously, leaning in to me and tucking a few locks of my hair back; her breath tickling my neck as she whispered. "A cocksucker?"

"Uh... yeah," I said lamely, my cheeks tingling as she pulled away, giggling. Patting me on the head, she looked up as Sirius approached the table; an air of excitement in his step.

"Remus!" he cried, plopping down in front of me and grabbing my face with urgency; squishing my cheeks together and knocking my glasses slightly askew. I blinked.

"Remus, darling, I have the most wonderful news!" James sat down next to him, looking nearly as bewildered as I was feeling. "Darling?" he mouthed, pulling a disgusted face as he grabbed a half-eaten muffin from my plate and examining it carefully.

I turned my attention to Sirius again, licking my lips in the most awkward of manners—seeing as, currently, they were puckered and twisted and oh-so uncomfortably arranged. I blinked again. Taking this as a cue, Sirius continued.

"I'm in your Muggle Studies class!" He threw his hands into the air; as if he'd just admitted he knew how to apparate. I wasn't exactly sure why this was such fantastic news. "How?" I asked, thinking it—after a slight bit of measured thought—a bit more polite than "_Why?_".

"Wellll," he said, dropping his arms and grabbing the remains of my muffin from James's hands and stuffing a piece into his mouth. Swallowing thickly, he pointed vaguely up at the staff table. "I spoke to McGonagall this morning about how ridiculous I think my Divination class is, and she surprisingly enough agreed." He smiled lightly, before continuing. "Yes, I think that will go down as the only thing she and I have ever agreed on. Except for when it comes to James."

James's head sprung up from where he had been scanning the personal ads in the back of the Daily Prophet. A scantily-clad witch kept winking up at me, next to a paragraph in bold print. "GREAT FUN," it said. "WILLING TO TRY ANYTHING, EVEN ROLEPLAYING! NO AGE LIMITS. VERY OPEN MINDED." I scowled at her before placing a bagel over her section of the paper; hiding her from view. She kept trying to poke her face through the hole in the bread, still waving and shaking her hips suggestively. I stacked another bagel over the hole. James shot me an odd look, and I shrugged. We both turned to look at Sirius, who was staring at us expectantly.

James sighed. "How so, Padfoot?" he asked lazily, knowing very well what was coming.

"Well, we both think you're a brainless twat!" He struck a pose, as if waiting for applause. James just turned back to his newspaper, however; and I motioned for Sirius to continue with his story. He slouched noticeably, obviously upset that his joke had failed. Miserably. "Well anyway, then she told me that I could opt to drop Divination, and pick up another non-core class. So," he concluded matter-of-factly, "I chose Muggle Studies. Because the only other choice with open seats was Runes, and I really do fancy myself sane." He shoved the last bits of my muffin into his mouth and smiled; his bottom teeth stained purple from the blueberries. I snorted.

"And just how to easy do you expect Muggle Studies to be?" I asked him, resisting the urge to wipe a few bread crumbs from the corner of his lips. He looked almost ridiculously adorable—and I say almost because he sort of didn't. He really just looked ridiculous.

"Well, Moony," he said, smiling and casting his eyes downward. "You _do_ know a bit about muggles, I presume, and..."

"More than a bit," I scoffed; not sure why his words agitated me so much.

"Okay, Remus, you are the epitome of all knowledge. A fountain of wisdom. A... pool of enlightenment." He mulled this thought over for a few seconds, licking his lips and sucking the colour from his otherwise remotely flawless teeth. Shooting me a grin, he added, "And I thought we could have study dates!"

"Study dates?" I said, laughing at the flourish with which he had announced his idea. "Since when were you one to study?"

He frowned, looking sincerely hurt. "You have such low expectations of me, Moony dearest." I rolled my eyes.

Grabbing my bag, I turned to James and Peter, who had just joined us; yawning stupidly. "Well," I said. "We're actually heading to the library right now—it's so loud and crowded around lunch, and we have a lot to finish, so..." I stopped when I caught the look on James's face. He waggled his eyebrows unsuccessfully, and I stood up. Tahlula followed suit, and we began to exit the hall.

"Oi, Moony," Sirius called, and I stopped, turning toward him once more. He motioned for me to come closer, twitching his index finger back and forth. I leaned over the table, coming eye-to-nose with him. "What?" I asked, and he beckoned me closer still. "Just tell me, Sirius," I sighed, not knowing if 'closer' was even that physically possible. He grabbed my chin and turned my head to the side so that his lips were practically mating with my earlobe. He whispered, and I felt my breath hitch as his breath skimmed down my neck; too distracted to catch what he said. James snorted, but I just let my jaw drop open stupidly. "What?" I repeated, biting my lip so that I wouldn't miss it again.

"I said," he breathed, and my senses heightened at the moist, feather-light sensation. "Remember to use protection."

xxxxx

James and Peter had already gone to sleep, and the Common Room was nearly empty; save a few first years frantically attempting to learn a disarming spell. I stretched out on the plush rug near the fireplace, pulling my Astronomy book out from my messenger bag and unrolling a new length of parchment. I heard Sirius shuffling around behind me, and I turned to look over my shoulder.

He was seated in the armchair nearest to me, the coffee table dragged carelessly across the rug so that it sat level with his knees; leaving creases and kinks in the ragged carpet. He kept shifting around in the chair, chewing absently on his quill as he drummed his fingertips rhythmically against his temples. A bit of ink stained his lip and he froze, picking his head up from his hands and looking at me. He smiled, and removed the tattered quill, setting it on top of his Potions book and letting the ink seep into the already dismal-looking binding.

"Having trouble, too?" he asked, standing up and stretching his arms toward the ceiling. I watched lazily as his shirt rose a few inches above his hips, exposing a length of soft flesh that made my mouth go dry. He yawned and looked at me, a smile ghosting his lips and a soft haze clouding his eyes. I cleared my throat after a second and tore my eyes away from him, returning them to my Astronomy book. My safe, lovely Astronomy book. But I could feel Sirius standing behind me how, and I forced myself to look up again, questioningly. "What's up, Padfoot?"

"Get up," he said, holding out his hand and biting his lip nervously. I grabbed it, feeling my eyebrows crease instantly as he reached up to touch my face softly.

"Remus, I..." he mumbled, running his fingers clumsily over my chin and down the side of my throat; letting them come to a rest near my collarbone.

"Remus," he said again, only this time, it was with a firmer voice. And that's when it happened.

...He smacked me. "Remus, that is _not _how you do Runes."

My eyes fluttered open, and I felt a rush of heat flow to my face as I spotted Tahlula; her face inches away from my own.

"Uhhh, I..." I tried to think of something to say, but she simply looked back at me with gritted teeth.

"Remus, have you been listening to me at all?" she asked, and I frowned.

"Well, err, you know, I—" but I stopped instantly as her face broke out into a grin, and she sat up. I lifted my chin from where it was nestled on top of my stacked arms, and ruffled my hair as I let out an undignified yawn. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"About fifteen minutes," she giggled. "You were out cold as soon as I started asking you about that essay. Then again, I suppose you didn't have much to tell, seeing as... you haven't really written it..." She frowned slightly, and I looked down at the parchment in front of me.

_Remus Lupin_, it read.

Period Three 

_Ancient Runes_

_26 November, 1975_

_Prompt Number Eight: Explain the influence that the Byzantine Empire had on early 9__th__ Century runic Anglo-Saxon art._

_Many artifacts crafted in Britain during the years of 800 to 850 B.C. had strong roots in the..._

The rest of the paragraph was completely illegible. I blinked. And then, I blinked again. A third time, just for good measure, before looking up at Tahlula again.

"I need to rewrite this," I said blatantly, and she nodded; apparently amused. I scowled at her and slid out of my chair, stumbling tiredly over to my book-bag and digging for a new roll of parchment. I heard Tahlula giggle behind me, and I turned around sluggishly; still a little groggy from my unannounced catnap.

"I suppose fifteen minutes was more than enough for you, then, was it?" She smirked, and I gaped at her. Looking down, I blushed immediately and scurried back to my chair; throwing a heavy textbook into my lap before I could think.

"UNGHHH." I doubled over, my chin thudding onto the hardwood table and my brows furrowing in pain. Tahlula just watched me, still wearing that stupid fucking smile of hers. "Go. Away." I said, prying one of my hands from underneath the textbook and grabbing my quill.

She shot a quick look around the corners of the bookshelves surrounding us before leaning in and eyeing me amusedly. "So?" she murmured. "Who was it...?"

"I...I—no one," I said lamely, trying to shrug it off.

She arched an eyebrow coyly. "No one?" she repeated. "If it was no one, you wouldn't be blushing."

"It's... I have a sunburn, alright?" I spat, writing my name on the fresh piece of parchment and starting to head my essay.

She dipped her head down so low that her chin was touching the table, and placed a hand on top of my own. I stopped writing and looked at her, again.

"Remus," she said softly. "It's November."

"Oh, shut up, will you?" I moaned, dropping the quill and leaning back into my chair. I rubbed my eyes angrily with the palms of my hands, and miniature fireworks crackled and popped as a stinging pain filled my head. I saw Sirius approaching me, holding out his hand—my eyes snapped open, and I felt them slide back into place as I watched a fuzzy afterglow hover in the corner of my view.

She was sitting up again, her black hair falling gracefully onto her open book and her chin propped up on her open palm. "Either you tell me," she said, in an airy tone that suggested we were discussing nothing more intriguing and gut-wrenching than the weather. "Or I start guessing. Loudly."

Now would have been a fitting time to growl at her, if I was a growly sort of person. But, seeing as I wasn't, I simply narrowed my eyes at her and shot her what was hopefully a very, _very _intimidating glare.

Apparently it wasn't. "Well, let's see, there's Owen, that Hufflepuff prefect that you do rounds with, right? Or is it a Ravenclaw boy? Oooh, perhaps a Slytherin? I could see you doing that—crossing the lines that divide, and all that rubbish. Could it be... Quinn Perry? No, wait, he's too..."

"Ugly?" I offered. She nodded, and continued. "Then again, I _do_ see you looking at that Snape bloke a lot, so maybe—"

"You do not!" I cried, doing my best to look mortally wounded. I'd sooner jump off the Astronomy Tower than be caught looking at Severus Snape.

"Then who is it?" she whined, and I slumped over in my chair, checking to make sure that no one else was around.

"If you tell anyone, I swear, I'll cut off your fingers," I said.

"Oh, of course." She nodded brightly, as if she had heard this over and over ad nauseam.

I took a breath, and closed my eyes. "It's... Sirius."

She clapped her hands together joyfully, and sat back up. He eyes were glittering madly as she did a bit of a victory dance in her chair. "I knew it!" she said. "Frank Longbottom."

I looked at her. "Errr... no, Lula. I said Sirius."

She nodded. "Yes, and I said Frank Longbottom."

Suddenly, it dawned on me. And yet, I was even more confused than ever. I pulled a face that hopefully portrayed my bafflement; but she just giggled.

"But," I choked out. "He's so... awkward!" Frank was a Gryffindor, in my year. He was a bit chubbier than most boys our age—though not nearly as rotund as Pete, of course—and had an unpleasant knack for tripping over his shoelaces.

Tahlula simply smiled wider. "I know," she said. "Isn't it adorable?"

xxxxx

**A/N: **:3


	4. Staplegunned

**A/N: **Okay, hopefully it won't be customary to make my introductory A/Ns a place for profuse apologies and silly excuses, but really: it's valid! My computer got a nasty virus from some pseudo-virus-protector website ( www. storage protector .com ...avoid it like the plagueeee) and we've only just got all of the files back on the computer, after sticking them on an external harddrive and rebooting everything. But now things should go a lot smoother. (:  
ANYWAY. I had ridiculous amounts of fun writing this one, and hopefully you'll enjoy reading it, too. (: I've written up chapter 6, already; because it was just itching to be typed. I should be bridging the gap between this one and that one quite soon; and, ideally, I'll have them both up this month. Perhaps even one more—I'm really happy with where this story is going, right now. Just a heads up: Chapter six is probably going to be the biggest one yet—in both plot and word count. I won't say much, but I can tell you that the summary will finally fit with the story; if you catch my drift. :D Also, about chapter three: I had a list of quotes saved for each chapter, but for some reason, I didn't have one for number three. I'll probably find one soon, and edit it in once I'm finished with the story. Also, there are like sixty kajillion icky grammar mistakes. So I'll fix those too. :3  
-Carli

xxxxx

"You can't stay mad at somebody who makes you laugh." –Jay Leno

**Chapter Four  
_Staplegunned _**

_"Do I have to spell it out for you,  
or scream it in your face?  
Oh, the chemistry between us could destroy this place.  
Do I have to spell it out for you,  
Or whisper in your ear?  
Oh, just stop right there,  
I think that we've got something here…"_

xxxxx

"Sirius, maybe I should do that." I watched warily as Sirius started to scoop up my carefully chopped daisy roots; his rough hands smashing the intricate pieces into lumps of wretched-looking gray slime.

"Why?" he asked innocently, absently flicking a few excess pieces into Peter's hair, in front of him. "I'm perfectly capable of concocting a Shrinking Solution. We've been doing these for years."

I stared at him, my jaw set and my eyebrows raised. "Sirius," I said slowly. "You just blew up your cauldron. I don't see how—"

"Well, James set Lily's hair on fire!" he interjected, quite obviously annoyed. "I really do think that his idiocy outshines mine by far."

James turned around, whipping his hand into the air and nearly knocking Peter out of his chair with an accusatory pointer finger. "You," he seethed. "You told me that it would impress her!"

I blinked, looking from Sirius to James, and back to Sirius again. I tried to think of something witty and bitingly sarcastic to say; but all I could manage was an incredibly dumbfounded "_What?_"

Sirius grinned cheekily. "James, you'd dance in front of her completely _starkers_, if I told you it'd impress her."

James frowned. "You're saying it wouldn't?" He looked vaguely insulted, and Sirius barked with laughter. I took this as an opportunity to salvage the crumbled daisy roots; slipping them into the cauldron and watching it froth almost instantaneously. "But that's besides the point!" James said, thrusting his finger dangerously at Sirius. "The point is, I'm never being your potions partner again. You always fuck me up."

Sirius patted James on the head, still grinning obnoxiously. "I think Slughorn's already banned us from working together, Prongsie-dearest. Your threats mean nothing to me."

James threw his hands into the air, letting out an indignant grunt that caused the third of the class who hadn't already been following the argument to turn in their chairs.

"Is there a problem, boys?" Professor Slughorn called from the front of the room, his eyebrows raising above his wire-rimmed spectacles; dancing around questioningly on his wide, shiny forehead.

"No, Professor," Sirius called. "James is just mad that our potion is turning out prettier than his." He batted his eyelashes in a grotesquely, yet accurately feminine way; pointing into our cauldron, which was now housing a thick, acid-green liquid.

James turned to me, gritting his teeth quite dramatically. "I am so sorry, Remus," he muttered, his finger rising again and thrusting perilously close to Sirius's left eyeball; "that you got landed with… _him_." He turned around with one last haughty glare, and I looked up at Sirius. His eyes were darting rapidly from one palm to the other, a look of utter bemusement etched upon his face.

"Where did they…?" He glanced at me hopelessly before returning his gaze to his empty hands. "Did I drop them?" He ducked his head, searching under the table for the daisy roots that he had so mysteriously misplaced.

I nabbed a glass vial from his relatively new potions kit, which was lying carelessly open next to the cauldron; scooping a bit of the concoction into the stirring ladle and filling it to the brim. Corking it with a dull _pop_, I shuffled out of my seat and approached the front of the room. "Here's our potion, Professor Slughorn," I announced, loudly enough for Sirius to hear, at the back of the room. I saw his head shoot up out of the corner of my eye as I handed the vial to the Professor.

He raised an eyebrow at me in what I suspect was supposed to be a smooth manner; tipping the vial so that the dim light from the few candles hovering near the ceiling caught the bright green potion, swirling it around and smirking. "Well, let's just see how well this works, then." The rest of the class had stopped working by now, and everyone was watching Slughorn's beady eyes scan the room with anticipation.

"Miss Young, seeing as your partner has been unjustly incapacitated—" he shot a look at James that could threaten the glare of a basilisk in severity, before continuing. "And you are therefore unable to produce a potion on your own, within the time limit, I suggest you earn your credit for the day by stepping to the front of the room." Ingrid Young was a mousy Hufflepuff girl who had been partnered with Lily by default—everyone else had already paired off before she could even look up from her textbook. Of course, James had tried and tried to be paired with Lily; but she just wasn't having it. And as a result, she was sent to the hospital wing with mild burns to the scalp and neck. Personally, I think that she'd rather have been _paralyzed_ then had to sit next to James.

Ingrid stumbled to the front of the room, holding her robes up above her ankles so that she didn't completely tumble over. She reached Slughorn's desk, and I smiled at her. She shot me a nervous grimace and waited for the Professor to give her further instructions.

"Give me your hand, dear," he said, uncorking the vial ceremoniously as she stared at him, bug-eyed. "Come on now, this can't harm you one bit. The leech juice provides a natural anesthetic. You won't feel a thing." He motioned for her to come closer, and she shuffled a few inches toward his desk in response; holding out her hand. He tipped the vial to the side, letting a few drops slide over her hand and fall to the concrete floor.

The sight was nearly as awful as the smell. It was like a mix between rotten cabbages and the fifth year boys' dormitory. Ingrid's hand shriveled instantly, bulbous lumps of skin rising and falling; morphing her hand to that of a doll's. She shrieked, and there was scattered laughter throughout the dungeon as she jumped back from Slughorn's desk.

"Lovely!" the Professor shouted, ignoring Ingrid completely as he corked the vial and reached for my hand; shaking it vigorously. "Absolutely fabulous. Perhaps it is a blessing, then, that Potter and Black cannot, shall we say, carry any productivity whatsoever?" Sirius took this as an initiative to jab James at the base of his skull with the end of his quill. I rolled my eyes at them, grabbing the potion from Slughorn's desk as he continued to grin at me.

"I must say," he continued. "I am actually quite surprised at the sheer... what is the word? Chemistry! That's it—the absolute chemistry that you and Mr. Lupin here are able to concoct." Slughorn was addressing Sirius now, but Sirius himself was still busied with pestering James. The Professor didn't really seem to care, and instead kept on talking. "It's particularly magical, what you two have." He turned back to me, practically beaming. "I never thought it possible for anyone to control him, but Merlin's beard, boy, you've done it! As my old friend Shakespeare would put it, you've tamed the shrew!" Chortling, Slughorn pulled another potion out from his tweed jacket; which was stretched dangerously over his rotund belly. Pouring it absently over Ingrid's hand, he waited for it to return to normal before motioning for the both of us to take our seats.

Sirius shot me an offended look as I sat down, crossing his arms over his chest and scoffing. "You haven't tamed me, Lupin," he spat dramatically. "And besides. I asked Peter what a shrew is. It doesn't even make sense, Moony. Only women can be shrews, and I _clearly_ have a penis." I looked down, raising an eyebrow coolly. "Clearly?" I asked, an air of amusement in my voice. He scoffed again, quite loudly. "Clearly," he said firmly, tossing his hair out of his face with what I suspect he thought was grace.

"Not very clear to me," sniggered James, though his head was still facing the front of the room. "Sure you didn't spill any of that shrinking solution on it, Pads?" Sirius froze. I could just see the smirk on James's face.

I decided to ignore this thought, but it was nearly impossible—just seeing Ingrid's hand bubble and shrink had made me sick to my stomach... so what would happen if one were to spill it somewhere a bit less conspicuous? I nearly hurled, just thinking about it. And so I shook the thought out of my mind—along with the scarring imagery, too. "Slughorn likes to pretend he knows what he's talking about, Sirius. But in reality, he just sounds like a brainless twat. Humour him, though; it's the best way to avoid conflict."

But Sirius wasn't listening. His bottom lip quivered, and he opened and closed his mouth about three times before he was actually able to manage something intelligible. "You don't... oh, gods, James... would that _work_?" Sirius bolted out of his chair, and was halfway across the classroom before Professor Slughorn shouted for him to stop. But, Sirius being Sirius; he didn't. "I think I'm going to yak, Sluggy!" he yelled, and a few people jumped out of the way disgustedly as he ran out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

xxxxx

"James, I have good news!" Sirius was striding toward the Gryffindor table, a toothy grin plastered on his face and his nearly empty rucksack slung carelessly over his shoulder. "Wormtail, budge up now, will you?" he said rudely, squirming his way between Peter and some poor first year, on the bench. He swung his elbows onto the wooden surface, and ruffled James's hair airily.

"What, you got us out of detention, tonight?" James asked, swatting Sirius's hand away, irritated. Sirius shook his head, smiling even wider.

"No," he said. "You were wrong! I didn't spill any of that shrinking solution, aaaannd..." he paused, shooting a glance toward the staff table before shouting, "MY PENIS IS STILL AS LARGE AS EVER, PRONGSIE, THANKS FOR ASKING."

James buried his head in his pudding as the Great Hall nearly burst with laughter; a few girls blushing and whispering to each other, shooting furtive looks at Sirius's stupid, grinning face. McGonagall had stood up at the high table, and was stalking toward the Gryffindor table with a deeply malevolent look in her eye that made Sirius's smile falter. But only slightly. A second later, he jumped out of his chair and bolted from the hall, laughter following in his wake as he disappeared. McGonagall advanced on James.

"Tell Mr. Black that he'd better hide, won't you, Potter? Because the next time I see him..." she trailed off, pressing the pads of her fingers to her temples and closing her eyes in frustration. She left the hall, and James rolled his eyes "Sirius is going to get himself killed, one of these days. And it's most definitely _not_ going to be an accid—what do _you_ want?"

A pimply-faced, brown-haired Ravenclaw had tapped James on the shoulder, her shifty eyes bouncing from the group of giggling girls behind her and James's bored expression. "I... well, _we_ were wondering... Err... how big _is _it, really?" My mouth fell open, and I heard Peter choke on his potatoes, next to me. The girl continued hurriedly, "I mean, you all share a dorm, right? So I thought that maybe you would know, because you... well, you probably see him change and stuff..."

I glanced stupidly over her shoulder at the few girls, noticing as one of them distinctly mouthed, "Lucky!" I reached over and thumped Peter between his shoulder blades with my fist, as he continued to choke loudly.

"Oh, we do know how big it is, but not because we watch him change," James began delicately. I froze.

"What are you getting at, James?" Peter choked out, finally able to draw a few shaking breathes before taking a tentative sip of pumpkin juice.

James smiled, a menacing look glinting in his hazel eyes as he continued, his voice disturbingly persuasive; and the interested girls nearly on their toes with anticipation. I think the pimply one was even holding her breath, for Christ's sake. "Come on, 'tail, you don't need to pretend anymore—I'm sure these girls would be completely accepting of our... well, our _relationship_ with Sirius." He turned to the girls, sighing lightly and pointing to the two of us.

"You see, hon, we four have an arrangement." The girl's eyes widened to the size of galleons, and she licked her lips anxiously. "What... what kind of arrangement?" she asked softly.

"Well," James whispered, and she leaned in even closer as he paused; apparently choosing his words very carefully. "It usually involves a lot of cock-sucking, and Remus here getting it up the arse. All three of us can truthfully testify that Sirius's dick is a monstrous _six feet long_." He and Peter burst into laughter as the girls scurried away, looks of scandalized horror on their faces. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, and I stood up from the bench sharply, grabbing my bag.

"Awhh, come on, Moony, it was just a joke," Peter said, his cheeks still flushed from laughter as he gave James a high-five across a plate of roast beef.

James smirked. "You and Sirius _do_ make wonderful chemistry, remember?"

"Well, I didn't think it was very funny. I personally think that _you'd _be bottoming, James. You do seem to be the type." I stormed from the room, completely unsure of what the hell I had just said. My teeth were clenched as I walked toward the dormitory; but before I could even get halfway up the sixth floor staircase, I was tackled to the floor by a black-haired blur; my glasses knocked from my face as my cheek crunched against the cold, stone steps.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" I asked dully, shifting uncomfortably under his weight. My hipbone was jutting angrily into the floor, and the side of my face felt as if it had been completely shattered. Sirius didn't move.

"You were going the wrong way," he said innocently. "We have Muggle Studies in a few minutes, and I wanted to walk with you."

"Mmm," I replied. "Well, good thing you caught me." Truthfully, I was wishing nothing more than for him to get up—his knees were positioned on either side of me, and he was resting his hands on my arm, the slightest pressure keeping me from going much of anywhere. It was disturbingly uncomfortable.

"Oi, Remus, we were only... what the _hell_?" I craned my neck just in time to see Peter and James racing up the stairs. They doubled up with laughter as soon as their stupid little brains caught up with their eyes, and I groaned.

"I'm the one who bottoms, eh, Moons?" James asked, arching an eyebrow coolly as he collected himself, standing up and resting lazily on a handrail; his face a bit contorted as he tried to keep from laughing.

Sirius caught on too quickly for my liking. "Awhh, Remy, you shouldn't be embarrassed to be catching. You know you enjoy it." He ground his hips playfully against my thigh, wearing a face of mock ecstasy. I rolled over, shoving him off roughly and picking up my bag. Pushing past James and Peter, I entered the fifth floor corridor, but not before shouting over my shoulder, "You can walk yourself to class, Pads."

I hated to be so rude, but my cheeks were burning so thoroughly that I was surprised it didn't burst into flames. Sirius could be so _insensitive_! Not like he knew, or anything; but still. You don't just pin down your mates and start grinding against them. It just wasn't something you did, and Sirius should have bloody well known that.

I took a seat next to Marlene McKinnon, smiling as I took out my book and placed it in front of me, on the desk. I saw Sirius enter the room seconds later, shooting me a hurt glance as I pretended to look past him before sitting down alone, at the back of the class.

xxxxx

Rain pelted against the windows; a dull pounding noise, which echoed throughout the empty common room. I sat curled up near the arm of the overstuffed sofa; my sockless feet tucked under me and my sleeves pulled over all ten of my fingers. A chill lingered in the air, and all that was left of the fire were a few pieces of glowing charcoal; which of course gave off no heat whatsoever. I would have started a fire, had I not needed my wand to illuminate the thick book in my lap. My eyelids were drooping slightly with weariness, but I kept mulling through the pages; absorbing the text no better than a sponge did a rock.

It was nearly three in the morning, and I was exhausted. However, I couldn't sleep—I had lay in bed for over four hours, before slumping down the stairs silently with my Ancient Runes book and wand in hand. I flipped the page dully, stifling a yawn as I closed my eyes for just a second...

They whipped back open almost instantly, as I heard someone hesitantly descending the spiral staircase. "Nox," I whispered; watching as the dim bluish light faded from the tip of my wand, and waiting anxiously as the footsteps continued. A soft _plop_ told me that they had reached the carpeted floor; and I realized absently that I was holding my breath. Not taking any measures to release it, I listened for more footsteps. But they never came. Instead, someone spoke out of the darkness, their voice shaking slightly. "Moony?"

I let myself breath once more, pulling my feet out from under me and dragging them into my chest; my arms looping around my knees in a vain attempt to warm up.

Sirius approached the couch, sitting down at the other end. I could feel him fidgeting.

"Bloody hell, Moons, it's fucking freezing down here," he laughed nervously; and the next thing I knew, the hearth was roaring with flames, as if they'd been there all along. "That's better," he mumbled, turning to look me in the eye. I ducked my head, clearing my throat and trying to ignore the tension in the room. I could feel his eyes boring holes in the top of my skull. I knew that he was worried about me, and it bothered me.

"So, what're you doing up?" I asked lightly, attempting to lighten the mood. It came to no avail.

"I couldn't sleep," he said offhandedly, and I looked up again, despite my better judgement. His shoulder-length black hair was incredibly rumpled, and there were dark circles under his gray eyes. There were numerous creases in his pyjama top, and his fingers were squirming idly. "I've been... thinking."

"Thinking about what?" I asked, though I couldn't mask the tone of nervousness in my voice. He bit his lip, looking conflicted. I wished he would just go back to bed. This was apparently uncomfortable for the both of us. He took his time, before answering; and even when he did, he sounded unsure.

"I... well..." he took a deep breath, steadying himself once again. "Are you mad at me?"

I melted. He couldn't sleep, because he thought that I was mad at him? Of course I wasn't mad at him. I could never be mad at him. He made me laugh. It wasn't his fault that he made my stomach do backflips. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but I couldn't even do that; so I shook my head instead, forcing a smile onto my tired face.

He visibly relaxed—his shoulders slumped over, and his face broke out into a grin as he let out a sigh of relief. "Good," he said. "That's fantastic. I thought you were, and well..." He trailed off, running his hand anxiously through his messy hair. Something was still bothering him.

"Remus, I... can I trust you?" I nodded slowly, my eyebrows creasing in confusion as he inched closer to me. I struggled to keep breathing as he placed a hand on my knee.

"Good," he said. "Good, 'cause I have something to ask you. And, well, it's kind of personal."

"Oh," I said, my voice suddenly three octaves higher than normal. "Okay, what is it?"

He chewed on his lip again, his gaze cast downward; toward my knee. His fingers drummed lightly as he took a deep breath.

"Remus?" he asked. "Are you... gay?" My heart stopped. My brain stalled. My throat closed up, and I nearly swallowed my tongue.

"Am I... _what_?" I choked out, vaulting off of the couch and beginning to pace back and forth, in front of the fireplace. "Of _course_ I'm not gay, you stupid sod! Why would you think that?" My vital organs began to work again, all at once. I could feel the blood pulsing right beneath my skin; my heart pounding against my ribcage; my brain reeling with questions.

Sirius frowned. "I'm sorry, mate, I just... I don't know. I just thought that maybe..." His face nearly broke my heart. I looked away.

"So what did you mean, 'can I trust you', eh? I thought that meant you were going to tell _me_ something." He looked down as I cast him a piercing glare, fumbling with his fingers in his lap.

"Well, I dunno," he said. "I guess I was asking if I could trust you to answer me, without getting all mad." I froze. I'd never seen Sirius so unsure of himself—and I don't think I ever want to, again. His head was hung shamefully, and he looked on the verge of tears. All because I wouldn't tell him that...

"I'm gay."

Sirius looked up at me once again, completely shocked. "Yes, Sirius, I'm gay. I'm _gay_." I paced again; but this time out of release, not indignation. "I... you can trust me. I can't lie to you. I am gay."

Sitting down in an armchair across from him, I plopped my face into my hands and all but clawed at my hairline. "This is so ridiculously screwed up."

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. I finally picked my head up and looked at him, across the coffee table littered with burnt-out candles and stray pieces of parchment. "How did you know?"

He grinned, and I swallowed thickly. "I have absolutely no idea," he admitted, and I apparently looked disbelieving; because he continued almost instantaneously. "I guess I sort of just... knew."

I nodded blankly, trying to process the exchange that was currently happening. There was still a small part of me that thought perhaps I was dreaming. I pinched my leg, but nothing happened. Surely, if this were a fantasy, this would be the part where Sirius would leap over the coffee table and pin me down, snogging me as I tugged off his shirt. But that didn't happen—nor did anything of the sort—and so slowly, it sank in: this was really happening.

"So... Tahlula?" he said, but I didn't need him to clarify. I knew exactly what he was asking.

"We're just friends," I said. "She knows."

He nodded. "Who else?" I laughed hollowly, shaking my head. "No one?" he gasped, glancing around the common room as if half expecting someone to pop out from the shadows and tell him that they, too, knew. That didn't happen either.

"Just Tahlula. And now you," I said grimly, clapping my hands together and standing up. He stared at me. "Well, before this situation can get any more awkward, I think I'm going to go to bed."

He didn't protest. Grabbing my Runes book, I started toward the stairs. I'd managed to get to the bottommost one, before he stopped me.

"Remus," he said, and I didn't bother to turn around. I could tell that he was still sitting down, by the fireplace. I waited. "Just know that... I'm okay with it, yeah? You don't have to worry about that."

"Thank you, Sirius," I said, before continuing up the stairs. _Yeah, thank you Sirius; but that's not what I was worried about._

Pulling the curtains taut around my four-poster, I buried my head in my pillows and tried to sleep.

Sirius didn't come up to bed for another two hours.

xxxxx

**A/N:** Guhh. It's so hard to make Remus wait. I nearly _did_ have Sirius leap over the coffee table. But that would screw up everything, so he'll just have to wait. (: Review, please! Chapter five is on it's way.


	5. The Tension and the Terror

**A/N: **Here it is, finally. It has officially been declared that I am the worst updater ever. Your planning for my demise may commence now. 

I'm starting to write chapters a bit ahead, so that they'll be prepared for an update a lot faster. Hopefully this will work out better. Chapter six is ready to be posted, but I'll wait for a few reviews, first. Thank you to everyone who has read this story, so far! I really appreciate your feedback, even if I'm shit at showing it. (:

-Carli

xxxxx

Never explain—your friends do not need it, and your enemies will not believe you anyway. -Elbert Hubbard

**Chapter Five**  
**_The Tension and the Terror_**

"_All the possibility and promise  
__Just weighs on me so heavily  
__And I try but I'm not convinced  
__And your lips they pout and twist  
__And I'm done trying just to  
__Keep myself from kissing you_."

xxxxx

"Reeeemussss."

_Go away._

"Mooonyyyy."

_Fuck you_. 

"C'mon, it's past noon. You've had enough sleep." I felt the mattress sink beside me as Sirius sat down, grabbing my shoulder lightly and trying to flip me over. But I pressed myself into the sheets and the pillow into my face, refusing to move. 

"Go away," I moaned against the cotton pillowcase, feeling it dampen slightly with my warm breath. Soon, though, it became rather hard to get any air into my lungs; and so I was forced to flop my head sideways, defeated and grumpy. Sirius's stupid, grinning face slid into focus as I blinked against the harsh lights. 

"Morning, sunshine! I was starting to think you'd died or something," he crooned airily, clapping his hands together and jumping up from my bed as I propped myself up on my elbows shakily. I reached over to my nightstand, letting my hand scuttle around curiously for my glasses; stopping when Sirius snorted stuffily, holding them on in front of me. Before I could even say 'thanks', he bounded across the room and stepped onto James's bed. 

"What are you—" I began sleepily, but I was cut off by Sirius as he tested out the mattress absently, shoving his hands into his pockets as he bounced on the balls of his feet. 

"Forty fucking minutes, I've been sitting here, waiting for you to get up." I felt myself blush slightly, wondering if he had really been sitting right next to my bed the entire time. Why hadn't he tried to wake me? My stomach fluttered girlishly, and my mouth gaped open at the thought; but I was able to pass it off as somewhat of a strangled yawn. "You'd think," he continued, quite pensively, "that ten hours of sleep would suit you." He bent his knees, cocking an eyebrow lazily as he stopped bouncing. "Merlin knows it did _me_. I've been up for four hours." He rocketed off of the mattress, landing on Peter's, next to it. James's duvet trailed onto the floor after his foot, curling around on the wooden floor and catching on the corner of his opened trunk. 

"Well, that's great for you," I muttered, rubbing my left eye and letting out a true yawn. Sirius just smirked, and pounced his way onto Frank Longbottom's mattress. If I wanted to make an idiot out of myself, I would have informed Sirius that thanks to his ever-so-delightful late night interrogations, I hadn't slept until I could see the golden light of morning seeping through my hangings and hear James rustling around in his trunk, getting ready for a rousing early Quidditch practice. But, like most sane human beings, I preferred _not _to make an idiot out of myself. So I restrained.

Swinging my feet to the edge of the mattress, I let my feet fall onto the shaggy scarlet bedside rug and wiggled my toes around absently. Suddenly, Sirius vaulted from Frank's bed; landing ungracefully next to me before collecting himself handsomely, as if he had not just fallen on his arse. 

"So," he said calmly, holding out a hand and hauling me to my feet. "You missed breakfast. I brought you up some pancakes, but they're kind of really fucking cold, now." He waved his hand to the side, motioning to a small tray that was balanced precariously on the corner of my trunk. A glass jar stood next to the golden plate of hotcakes, a thick yellow substance filling it about halfway. I looked at Sirius.

"Mustard?" I asked exasperatedly, but Sirius just grinned wider. Plopping down cross-legged in front of my trunk, I picked up a pancake and ripped a piece of it off. It was the fluffiest pancake I had ever tasted. Granted, it was the coldest, too—but it was the thought that counted, right?

"Mmmm." I nodded, swallowing the first bit and ripping off another. "Delicious."

Sirius looked as though I had just declared him God. He jumped up and down excitedly, clapping his hands together. "I know, right?" he exclaimed, and I snorted. "I went down to the kitchens and told the house elves to make you the extra-fluffy kind."

"Ah," I said thickly, through a mouthful of food. "Those are the best sort." He nodded again, kicking a stray sock under Frank's bed and sitting down on the shaggy rug. 

"So," I continued, pointing to the jar of mustard. "What happened to the rest of it?" He blushed, fiddling with a scarlet strand from the rug and chewing on his bottom lip nervously. I had never in my life seen Sirius Black blush. 

"I... ate it?" he said ashamedly, and I made a peculiar sound somewhere between a giggle and a snort. He scoffed at me, folding his arms and throwing his nose into the air.

"Anyway," I asked, deciding it better to change the subject than play along with his ridiculous—albeit adorable—moping. "What's this all for, in the first place? I mean, it's not my birthday, or anything." His smile fell, and I grimaced. "Unless, of course, you decided to forget that, again?" He shook his head, looking even more offended as I continued. So I shut my mouth, and nibbled on another colossal pancake, instead. This particular one didn't seem to be cooked all the way; and cool, thick batter dribbled over my bottom lip. I left it there, and continued to stare at Sirius's affronted expression.

"Can't I do something nice for you, every once in a while?" he asked, and I noticed that he seemed to be getting a bit defensive, which was really quite rare. I threw up my hands in a surrender, swallowing again and looking him in the eye. 

"I wasn't saying that there was anything wrong with it. In fact, I quite appreciate it." I shot a look at the jar of mustard, and smirked. "Well, that part's a little weird; but you meant well, yeah?" 

His smile snuck its way back onto his lips, and they curved at the edges as he pulled his knees to his chest and reached onto my bed, grabbing my pillow and pulling it toward him. And then, of course, he followed the appropriate sequence of events by tossing it at my head. I fell backward onto the hardwood floor, and my pancake went flying toward the wall. I stayed put, pulling the pillow up and propping it behind my head casually. 

Sirius had stretched out on his stomach now, resting lazily on his elbows with his sock-less feet in the air. He pulled a single thread from the rug, and shrugged. "I guess I just felt bad, though, to tell you the truth."

"Bad about what?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. Last night had no doubt been awkward for the both of us. Undoubtedly, he was regretting that he had ever even asked me the stupid question. 

"Bad about being a nosy prick, o'course," he said, smiling apologetically. The edges of my lips twitched uncertainly, and I leaned forward to pick up another pancake before flopping back onto the pillow. 

"It's alright, mate," I offered, chewing on one end of the pancake. I was starting to feel awkward again, and didn't particularly want to have this sort of a discussion, at the moment. Or at any moment, for that matter.

"No," he said. "It's not alright. I shouldn't have cornered you like that. I have absolutely no sense of personal space, I suppose. I just... I don't know. I had to ask—I didn't think about how weird it would be for you."

I shook my head. "Sirius, stop. It's fine, okay? In fact, you can just totally forget we ever even had the conversation, if you want to, and—"

"Remus, you stop!" he barked suddenly, and I froze; pancake halfway to my mouth. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and sighed. "Just let me talk, will you? I'm trying to apologise, and the least you can bloody do is listen."

"Sorry," I whispered, lowering my hand and pursing my lips together to keep myself from interrupting.

"Don't be," he said, calming down a bit. "Just... accept the apology, yeah? I feel bad about it, and you telling me not to isn't going to fix anything." He paused, but I dared not say anything. Taking this as a cue to continue, Sirius plowed on. "Now. James has Quidditch, and then he's spending the day girl-oogling, as usual. I persuaded him to take Pete along, so you and I have the day to ourselves. I personally suggest we tap into that chocolate stash I know you keep." He was smiling again, now, and I couldn't help but laugh—his mood was contagious. 

Sitting up, I flipped open the lid of my trunk and dug to the bottommost corner; pulling out a metal lock-box and my wand. 

"_Alohamora_," I muttered, and opened the top before setting the box on the ground between us.

Sirius's eyes lit up. "Excellent," he breathed; grabbing the box of sweets and tucking it under his arm, heading for the door. "You get dressed," he told me, as he grabbed the doorknob loosely. "I'll be in the Common Room. Be quick, alright?" 

He shut the door behind him, and I reached into my trunk again; pulling out a pair of denim jeans and a gray and yellow striped sweater. Pulling my pyjama top over my head and throwing it onto my bed lazily, I yanked the sweatshirt on and changed my pants. I nabbed my scarf, which was sticking discreetly from under my bed, and headed down the spiral staircase. 

"You," Sirius informed me, gazing laughingly at my yellow sweater. "Look like a Hufflepuff." A giggle came from the end of the couch, and I let my gaze follow it—Tahlula was curled up against the armrest, next to Sirius. Her hair was pulled up into a lazy bun, and she was wearing a red tee shirt and a pair of black jogging pants. I sat down across from them, and Sirius put a few of my chocolate frogs between us on the coffee table.

"Look who decided to join us!" he exclaimed innocently, motioning to Tahlula. She handed him a pack of Exploding Snap cards, and sat forward. 

"Mmm, great bloody coincidence that is, eh?" I mumbled, though I couldn't help but smile. The common room was nearly empty, as it was a Saturday afternoon. Most of the students were out doing something or other, although there were a few first years sitting in a corner, stressing over a Potions assignment. 

Sirius slid the brand-new cards out of their pack, and began to shuffle them idly, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. "Don't act like you're not enjoying this, Remus," he said smoothly, dealing the cards into three messy piles. "I know that you, for one, do not care for big groups of people. And today, it's all about you, me," he paused, shooting Tahlula a glance and grinning broadly. "And your lovely girlfriend over here." 

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to toss one of the scarlet and gold-tasseled pillows at his face. Apparently, though, Tahlula had much less self control than me; because she did just that, a second later. 

"Oi!" Sirius laughed, picking up his cards and letting the pillow fall to the floor. "You should at least be able to see the humour in the situation. Merlin knows I certainly do." I scooped up my own pile of cards, scowling at the rubbish hand I'd been dealt.

"You have a terrible poker face, Remus," Tahlula noted casually, and I looked up as if to catch her in the act of hypocrisy—but her features were stony, and I couldn't tell one way or the other what sort of cards she had. Sirius, too, looked quite indifferent; save the omnipresent smirk that laced his gray eyes. It'd always been there, for as long as I could remember. I suspect if it were to disappear, so would the liveliness of Sirius's appearance. He was all dark tones and sharp features, but in a mysterious way rather than a depressing one. Black hair fell naturally over his pale face, white teeth, and signature grin that always lingered in his otherwise stormy eyes. 

Tahlula glanced quickly at the top card in the centre deck, and put down an eight without any hesitation. I tried to figure whether or not she was bluffing, before checking my own hand again and shaking my head. "Pass." 

Sirius shot me a quick smirk before laying down an eight, too. He flipped over the top card on the deck, and I groaned. The eight in my hand exploded with a nearly deafening _snap!_, the blue and gold pieces falling to the ground at my feet. Tahlula and Sirius's cards were swept under the deck, and Sirius dealt me eight cards from the top. 

"Losing so badly, so soon!" Sirius said, in mock sympathy. This time I did whap him over the head with one of the throw pillows, but he just smiled even wider. 

By the sixth round, I had more cards than I could hold. Sirius, on the other hand, was down to one. "One, one, one," he sang, his fingers strumming the back of the card idly as he waited for me to make my move. "One card, one card, oh I've only got one card..." He broke off, then, humming a tune that I'm absolutely sure he was improvising. It was awful. 

"One card in my hand, it's oh so lonely, oh so—"

"Sirius, we're not blind, okay? We can tell how many cards you have," Tahlula snapped, and I nearly pounced on her in gratitude. 

Sirius looked up innocently, batting his eyelashes in what I'm positive was an attempt to look saintly. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I say that out loud?"

The top card in the deck was a four. I had a four, myself, and I wasn't sure if I should chance bluffing. There were two left in play, and he could very well have one of them. On the other hand, I had three sixes. It was quite unlikely that he had the last one. Sirius was looking me directly in the eye, now, and it was making me squirm uncomfortably. 

I shakily pulled a six from my hand, laying it flat down on the table in what I hoped was casual indifference. Sirius held my gaze for another second, before laying his card down. It was a six. The one that I had laid down exploded defiantly, knocking the other cards off of the table. 

Tahlula threw down her hand, not even bothering to continue. "You, Sirius, have ridiculous foresight." He pumped his fist victoriously and began to clean up the cards. The shredded pieces of blue and gold that had been scattered throughout the course of the game—mostly surrounding my feet, of course—collected themselves and shaped into cards again, at the simple wave of his wand.

"You, on the other hand, Remus," she continued, pulling her feet up onto the couch and into her chest, once again. "Are absolute pants at lying."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, as he forced the cards back into their box. 

"I never said I was good at snap," I muttered, and Sirius chucked the bulging box of cards into my lap before sinking into the plush cushion behind his head. I tossed it, in turn, to Tahlula; who caught it gracefully and stood up from the couch.

"As lovely a game as that was, I actually have someplace to be," she said, stretching her arms toward the ceiling and yawning. She started towards the girls' dormitory, but stopped at the bottom of the staircase. "So I'm going to get dressed, but don't miss me too much." Shooting me a knowing look over Sirius's shoulder, she said cheerfully, "You boys have fun!" before bounding up the stairs two at a time. 

"She's nice," Sirius said, but he seemed to be a bit distracted. All I could get in was a brisk nod, however, before he continued. 

"Why are you wearing that?" he asked, motioning to where I had wrapped my maroon and gold striped scarf tautly around my neck.

"Oh, I have to," I said airily. "To hide the marks, you know? I have a very cannibalistic boyfriend."

Sirius froze. I rolled my eyes, unraveling the scarf and throwing it onto the floor. "Joking," I sighed, letting him inspect my neck. "Like anyone would want to, anyway."

Shrugging, Sirius popped a chocolate frog into his mouth. "You underestimate yourself, Remus." Apparently, my throat decided that now would be a great time to close up.

Before I could say something ridiculously embarrassing, however, Tahlula came bolting down the stairs, again, wearing a gray pleated skirt. She pulled the elastic band from her hair as she walked toward the portrait hole, letting her black hair fall about her shoulders. 

"Oi, where are you going?" Sirius called, and she turned around before exiting; a huge grin plastered on her face. 

"Oh, I have a study date with Frank," she said calmly, but I could see the excited glint in her eyes. I snorted.

"Frank Longbottom?" Sirius asked, his eyebrows raised. Tahlula nodded, and smiled even broader. 

"She fancies the pants off him," I told Sirius, trying desperately to keep myself from smiling, too. Sirius looked confused, but I just shook my head at him. "I don't get it either, mate."

"So wait, a minute," Sirius said, hopping up off of the couch and heading toward her slowly. "Is this a study date? Or... a date where you're going to study? Each other? Meticulously?" I rolled my eyes. He had apologized to me just this morning, for being nosy; and here he was poking around someone else's business already. 

"Just a study date." Tahlula frowned, twisting her fingers in the hem of her skirt. "I dunno. I might ask him if he wants to visit Hogsmeade with me, next time a weekend rolls around." 

"The Saturday after next," I piped up, picking my scarf back up from the floor and wrapping it around my neck. Tahlula paled considerably. 

"Oh," she said, her voice a bit more high pitched than usual. "That's... soon." Blinking rapidly, she turned on her heel and ducked out of the portrait hole without another word. Sirius sniggered and shook his head as the painting of the Fat Lady swung back into place, taking his seat on the end of the couch, again.

"Y'know," he said, nabbing another chocolate frog before leaning back and hastily ripping apart the packaging. He tossed the wizard card to the floor, seemingly disinterested. I plucked it off of the carpet and examined the twinkling blue eyes of the card's featured wizard: Albus Dumbledore. I already had about seven trillion Dumbledore wizard cards, but all the same I placed it into my pocket before looking back up at Sirius, who was now meticulously picking at the struggling frog—he always preferred to eat the limbs, first. I had nearly forgotten that Sirius had started to speak, until he continued a few moments later. 

"I honestly always thought of Frank Longbottom as being strangely asexual." His eyes glittered in a nearly harmlessly malicious way, if that were at all possible. "And if we're playing the honesty game, here, then I have to admit that's what I always thought about you, too."

It took me a moment to scrounge up the proper reaction to such a statement, rather than simply allowing the ridiculous blush to creep up my neck yet again. I decided that scoffing was rather appropriate, and Sirius broke out into a toothy grin as I tried to pass the redness of my cheeks for agitation rather than embarrassment. 

"But now, of course, I've got these ridiculous images trotting around my brain of you being gay and doing gay things that aren't really that gay; like baking cookies and whatnot. Isn't that weird? Even though I know you're gay, now, I still can't picture you actually fancying anyone."

I might have laughed at the vaguely confused expression that slowly overtook Sirius's otherwise careless features following his jumbled sentence, had I been a person of more patience. But I most conclusively wasn't.

"Maybe," I hissed angrily. "You should say 'gay' just one more time, yeah? For good measure." I regretted saying it the moment that it tumbled from my mouth, but it was too late. Sirius cocked an eyebrow deviously, and I gritted me teeth.

"Oh, Remus darling, you're just so absolutely _gay_." He flicked his wrist jokingly, and I wanted nothing more than to tackle him. And not in the way I'd wanted to for eons, either, but in a way that would end up with him pleasingly unconscious. A few of the first years in the corner looked over, as Sirius hadn't really bothered to keep his voice down. One of them giggled, and I adjusted the shiny Prefect badge on my scarf in what I hoped was a nonchalant way; my eyes fixated on the window just to the left of their table. They fell silent, and I returned my gaze to Sirius.

"You're really getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" I said, but he was preoccupied with staring at my badge, a smirk playing at his lips. I swung my feet up onto the coffee table, and he looked back up at my face, still smiling. 

"Indeed I am. You know I just love to see you bothered." He stood up from the couch, lumbered across the few feet dividing us, and thumped down noisily next to me. He put his arm awkwardly around my shoulder, in nothing more than a friendly manner, but instantly my spine fused. Maybe he noticed, and was trying to pretend he hadn't, or maybe he just simply wasn't as perceptive as I thought he was. Either way, he snaked his arm back around my neck—which was, mind you, ten times worse—and placed it innocently in his lap. 

"But really, isn't it nice to have it out in the open? Now you have someone to talk to about it!" I didn't even need to look at his face to understand how unexplainably excited he was.

"I had Tahlula," I said defiantly, the only other alternative being an awkward hug that would inevitably end in me burying my face into his shoulder and confessing that I was glad that it was 'out in the open', too. Well, maybe not glad—relieved seemed more like the proper term. Either way, this route called for an intense grasp of humility that I neither had nor wanted to achieve.

"Yes, but now you have someone you can relate to!" he shouted, throwing his hands into the air. My neck nearly broke whipping around to look at him, and my eyes felt as if they were going to roll right out of my skull.

He let out yet another notorious bark of laughter, and stood up before I could wrap my head around what was going on. "Joking," he assured me.

I forced a smile, wishing he wouldn't.

"But seriously," he said, and I groaned inwardly as the inescapable grin broke the sobriety of his face. "Seriously, I'm serious." He giggled uncharacteristically, and I ground my teeth together to keep myself from joining him. Again with the humility, and my lack thereof.

With an impatient wave of my hand, I motioned for him to keep talking. After dedicating a few moments to the appreciation of his overused and never-funny-in-the-first-place pun, he looked me in the eye. "Serio—" 

"Sirius," I warned; leaving off the end of the sentence—_"be serious"_—for the sake of my sanity.

He put his palms up, in a gesture of resignation. "I'm glad that you told me. I can't say it enough."

I couldn't help but smile, now. "Me, too." With a quick glance at the first years, still huddled together, but now far more interested in us than in their homework; I suddenly glared. "Sort of. Sometimes. Almost."

"I know, I know," he sighed, lowering his hands and—with a jolt of electricity that easily rivaled a lightning storm—intertwined his fingers with my own, which were hanging limply by my side. "But you love me anyway." 

Silently, I agreed. 

"C'mon," he said, and again I noted the ubiquitous glimmer in his stormy eyes. Before I could even really appreciate the feeling, he withdrew his hand and began walking toward the portrait hole. "Let's go to the kitchens."

xxxxx

**A/N:** I hate the Sirius/Serious pun. But I have a feeling that sir Padfoot would have absolutely adored it. (:


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